


Tell Me

by fortyfive_rpm (2davidbeckham3)



Series: Dial Tone [1]
Category: The Rolling Stones
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Making Up, Phone Calls & Telephones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25255363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2davidbeckham3/pseuds/fortyfive_rpm
Summary: A confession over a collect call.
Relationships: Mick Jagger/Keith Richards
Series: Dial Tone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837687
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a documentary I watched about the 1980s. (I just wanted to talk about payphones.) Set in late 1988/early 1989. The End of the Gimmers World War III.  
> Title from The Rolling Stones' [Tell Me (You're Coming Back).](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLVk0XgmjMU)

Keith likes to let his actions speak for themselves. Emotions are kinetic, easily transcribable into a biting riff or melancholy solo. It’s ironic, considering he’s one half of the Jagger-Richards songwriting duo and, even after all this time, simply thinking of vocalizing his feelings feels too much like conceding defeat.

Defeat, at least, would mean that he went through with his ridiculous plan instead of taking the coward’s way out. 

Keith has a moment of regret after listening to a pair of heeled-footsteps click behind him. He should have thought ahead and shelled out more money for the Ritz-Carlton since it had private phone booths in its lobby. Instead, he’s grinding the receiver in his ear, staring at the off-white wall of the second-rate Sheraton Hotel Ronnie convinced him to book. The row of wooden enclosures lining the wall offered little privacy and anyone walking by could hear him make a fool out of himself. 

Keith presses the ‘0’ on the number pad, ignoring every instinct in his body that’s urging him to hang up and turn the other way. “Hello, operator? I’d like to place a collect call to England.” 

He’s in the middle of reciting the phone number he wants to reach when the sound of raucous applause followed by the tinkling notes of a piano fills his ears. The loud music, oddly, makes his endeavor simultaneously easier and more difficult. He’d rather experience the quick death of heartbreak instead of continuing to live through the the slow torture of listening to the cabaret version of an already horrible and bland, Bon Jovi song.

_“_ _—_ _would you like to accept a call from_ _—_ _”_

“—Keith Richards,” Keith shouts when prompted, pressing the receiver close to his mouth, the simple task made difficult by his sweaty palms. 

There’s a loud click before a husky, sleep-filled voice comes through the line. _“Keith?”_

“Yeah,” Keith’s voice cracks. He scowls at the silver number pad in front of him, mentally cursing his inability to keep his nerves under control, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, it’s me. Did I wake you up?” 

_“Yeah.”_ The response is almost immediate. _“Had a late night.”_ An ear-splitting yawn accompanies the statement as if to emphasize the fact. 

“Listen,” Keith continues before Mick could ask him why the hell he’d decided to call him in the middle of the night after months of not speaking. “I need t’ tell you somethin’ important.” Keith hates the way his voice quavers. He’s had an album and a tour’s worth of practice fronting a band, yet talking to Mick makes his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest. 

The sound of rustling bedsheets fills Keith’s ears. _“...Now?”_ Comes Mick’s delayed reply, the single syllable dripping with confusion.

Keith doesn’t dignify the question with a direct response, instead, he pushes back the instinctive sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue by taking in a deep breath. 

“I’m in love with you.”

The words almost seem to echo in the ensuing silence, ringing in his ears. His fingers hurt from where they’re curled around the receiver, not used to holding such an unnatural position for so long and with so much force. Everything hurts.

“I’m in love with you, y’dumb twat,” Keith repeats, ignoring his frantic heartbeat, temper seeping through the cracked edges of his nerves. “You’re a fuckin’ idiot if y’didn’t know this already.”

It wouldn’t surprise him to find out that Mick fell asleep, rendering his confession useless, At least, now, Keith won’t have to deal with Ronnie’s pitying looks since he’s finally told Mick his feelings. It’s not the victory he sought to claim with this phone call, but he’d take anything, at this point.

_“Fuck_ _—_ _Where are you?”_

Keith jumps, knocking his elbow against the divider next to him. “What?” They’re not exactly the four words he was expecting in response to his admission

_“Where are you?”_ The words come out in a heated lash, betraying Mick’s own temper, sounding annoyed at the fact that he’s had to repeat himself, albeit breathless. _“Why the fuck am I taking an international collect call from you?”_

“’m in New York.” It’s strange to admit, though it’s not like Mick had any reason to keep track. 

_“Get on the first flight back to London.”_

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Keith counters, reflexively. It’s familiar territory, hitting back at Mick after he’s said something he disagrees with.

_“Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since you tried to strum along to Chuck’s '_ _Confessin' the Blues_ _' after you invited me over for tea.”_

The revelation startles a laugh out of Keith. “If ‘m flyin’ commercial, you’re buyin’ me my ticket.” He’ll be damned if he lets Mick off the hook with his vague confession.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Picture the row of payphones a little something like this but with wooden enclosures.  
> \- Confessin' the Blues is a song on Rockin' the Hops one of the records Mick had when he ran into Keith in the train station (Keith later invited Mick over for tea.)
> 
> I aimed for 500 words for this one as sort of a challenge for myself and... it didn't really work out. Not that I'm complaining! I'm probably going to write a sequel to this fic - while it seems like this one could be set in the same universe as my fic _criss cross mind_ , I'd like to think of this one in a different timeline, where the Glimmers didn't act on their feelings/admit them until very late - as you all read lol. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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